


Legends Never Die

by imitateslife



Category: Victor Frankenstein (2015)
Genre: (surprisingly), Character Study, Gen, Not Shippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 07:58:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12316974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imitateslife/pseuds/imitateslife
Summary: Finnegan knows money can buy anything - even a legacy.Day 3: The word "Privilege".





	Legends Never Die

Finnegan’s draconic grey eyes scanned the grounds of his London manor one last time as his men and maids packed and readied the coaches. This time tomorrow, he’d be taking tea at Castle Erskine, captive to his own ambition and first-row audience to Frankenstein’s manic raving. It would be worth it. All his life, Finnegan had been expected achieve greatness. It came with the name. Finnegan. Third richest family in England. His father held an Irish peerage, though they hadn’t been anything but English for a hundred years; his mother would one day leave Finnegan an earldom out of Scotland. The trading empire his great-grandfather had built still thrived in the London harbor. And he was synonymous with it all: Finnegan.

He couldn’t bear his common, Christian name and, indeed, had not been called by it in nearly two decades. The gold child, the anointed one -he had nothing of his own and no accomplishments to his name. Born into wealth, he hadn’t needed them. He could ride the coattails of others from birth to private school and from private school into medical school. It was not medicine itself that fascinated Finnegan, but the possibilities of science for financial exploitation. There were so many profitable, but uncharted, study ventures. He hadn’t the creativity to dream them all up, but Finnegan had an eerie talent for finding the best and brightest and saying just the right thing to them to get what he wanted. Victor Frankenstein hadn’t been a hard find. He was loud. He made his presence known. He would tell a dog all his great plans for the future if he thought it was actually listening. Finnegan watched him, read him.

He wasn’t hard to read, either.

Desperate for attention and acclaim, Frankenstein would let anyone sit in on his presentations. None ever bore fruit. Whether Finnegan mocked him to elicit results or for his own pleasure, it was nigh impossible to say. Frankenstein would foam. Stutter. Rave. Once, he’d let a pigeon with a mechanically healed wing loose in Hall B. The bird had struggled vainly for a few minutes, cooing and stumbling on the desk, trying to lift its steel wing. When at last, it managed flight, it flew headlong into a wall and died. Finnegan laughed. But Frankenstein had potential and – lo! He presented that beastly creature. _Gordon_ , he called it. And by Jove! The roars of the creature, its strength and speed… In its milky eyes, Finnegan saw a future and instantly knew how he would rise above the privilege of his upbringing.

If he could control Frankenstein’s new technology… He’d been grooming Frankenstein for control for years and so he had succumbed to Finnegan’s flattery. Was there any man alive more desperate for praise? Finnegan smiled. He would ensure his family’s golden legacy in this new age of scientific discovery. He would obliterate all others from memory and be the only Finnegan the history books remembered.

He had been born into wealth and privilege, but Finnegan would earn his power.

And Frankenstein would ensure his immortality – one way or another.


End file.
